


Uphold

by philippcarlyle



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Again a lot of dialogue, Fluff, M/M, Phil is insecure, phin is an angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-26 13:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13858428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philippcarlyle/pseuds/philippcarlyle
Summary: [...]“I’m constantly changing my mind, you drive me crazy. I can’t compete against you.”uphold:a : to give support tob : to lift up





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tumblr prompt: “I just don’t feel like I’m enough for you.”
> 
> (This is unbeta'ed and I'm not a native speaker.)
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’ll stay a little longer, I want to finish our calculations for this month and so on.”

P.T. looks after his partner, who only shoots him a small smile before he vanishes. The show man sighs and leaves the building on his own. The last three days Philip decided to stay way into the night to do…whatever he felt necessary to do right then instead of coming home with P.T.

It makes the older man wonder, whether anything is wrong. He wants to ask Philip, once the younger man comes home. Home being P.T.’s house.

Philip doesn’t come home.

P.T. brings the girls to bed. At dinner they ask, where Philip is. They read a bedtime story without the younger man. When Helen skips away to get a glass of water before sleeping, Caroline takes it upon her to talk to her father.

“He isn’t sick, is he?” she asks anxiously.

P.T. looks up from the storybook he still holds in his hands. Caroline makes out a small smile on his face, when he shakes his head. She sighs relieved and hugs P.T.

“We don’t want to lose him too,” she whispers in the name of her sister and herself. It nearly moves P.T. to tears. They all had a hard time when Charity fell ill. They all had suffered and still work through the loss. Sometimes P.T. forgets it, forgets the pain, seeing his girls happy. But now he gets reminded on just how much they are affected by their mothers death too. It was a hard time.

“We won’t. He has a lot to do, although I tell him not to over-work himself,” P.T. reassures his daughter. Caroline rolls her eyes with a grin at that. Once Helen is back, the girls crawl into bed and P.T.  blows out the candles in the room.

P.T. doesn’t sleep well that night. He is wide awake most of it and tries to make the best of it. Burrowed in papers he writes down new ideas, changes for the shows, designs this and that new attire. Crosses them out again, changes some details.

The next day the ringmaster enters the office inside the circus building. Philip is asleep in a chair, bent over the desk with a smudge of ink on his cheek, his hair a mess. P.T. sets down what he brought with him and walks around the large table. He softly nudges Philip, but gets nothing except for a sleepy grunt.

“Hey, wake up,” he whispers and tousles the man’s hair.

“Mh-oh. Morning,” the younger man greets, his voice laced with sleep.

“Morning. I have breakfast,” P.T. smiles and points at the small basket with sandwiches and fruit. He prepared them with his daughters, who went wild to create ‘the best meal ever’ and P.T. was pretty proud on how it turned out. He places one of the sandwiches in Philips hands and stands behind him, resting his head on the shorter man’s shoulder. He can feel Philip sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, sorry,” Philip admits.

“It’s fine. Can I cheer you up? Or are you tired, we can do something against that too?” P.T. offers.

“No. This is- stop this.”

“What?” The smile vanishes from P.T.’s face. He lets go of the younger man and rounds the desk once again to take the seat in front of Philip. He wants to talk to him face to face.

“I-I-I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Care to elaborate?” P.T. asks flat.

Philip grimaces and drops the sandwich on his documents to cover his face in his hands. He moves them and brushes his hair out of his face.

“You are so kind, and caring and-and dedicated. I don’t deserve you, look what I do, I bury myself in work and avoid you, I don’t spend enough time with your girls, I-“

“Philip, stop that. It’s not true,” P.T. requests. He looks at the younger man questioningly. He really seems to believe what he just said.

“I just don’t feel like I’m enough for you.”

“Don’t say that. You are far more than someone like me deserves,” P.T. counters, voice low. He leans forward in his chair and when Philip doesn’t hinder him, interlinks their hands.

“Oh my god you’re doing it again,” Philip says in despair and while P.T. is mostly confused, the rejection hurts. He softly strokes over Philips palm and drops his gaze.

“What am I doing? If you are uncomfortable with affection, just say so. I understand that.” He doesn’t. But he respects Philip and if he does something that troubles the young man, he wants – no, needs – to know about it. Philip can’t look at the show man, his show man.

“You make me appear like some fucking hero. I am not, I am full of flaws. You achieved so much, you did amazing things. You had Charity – and I? I can’t offer you… _this_ , I am not like you.”, Philip spills and withdraws his hand.

“Don’t compare yourself to Charity,” P.T. says quietly. It gets Philip to glance at him.

“No one of us is flawless. And yes, I see you as some ‘fucking hero’, you know why? Not because I think you are perfect. For God’s sake, you are not. But you are perfect for me – call me cheesy. It’s true regardless. You are more than I could ever have asked for and of course you are different than me – do you think I could deal with someone who is like me? I need you just as you are. I love you just as you are.”

Philip laughs helplessly and wipes his eyes. P.T. doesn’t comment on it other than smiling softly.

“See what I mean?”, the younger man argues, but grins now. “And yes, you are so cheesy.”

“Eh, one of us has to be, right?” P.T. retorts. Philip nods and chuckles.

“You know what I’ve been doing the last days?” he asks the older man.

P.T. raises an eyebrow, caught off guard. He didn’t think that Philip might have done something else than working late into the nights. Now he looks around the room more alert, but can’t spot any obvious evident. He waits for Philip to offer an explanation. The younger man sighs yet again.

“I tried to plan your birthday. I wanted something special to, like, give something back. I sometimes feel like you have so much to give and I only take – which is not okay. So I, I don’t know.”

“That’s so endearing. Whatever you had in mind will be great, I promise you,” P.T. reassures him.

Philip throws his hands up and shakes his head with a smile.

“I’m constantly changing my mind, you drive me crazy. I can’t compete against you.”

P.T. gets up and beckons Philip to do the same. They stand opposite each other, Philip looking up in those deep eyes.

“If that’s what stresses you out, I think I might have the solution for you,” P.T. says. He smoothes Philips hair back. Then he places a kiss on the younger man’s forehead. Philip closes his eyes and falls into the embrace, P.T. initiates.

“It’s not a competition. I know, most things in life are. Who gets the most recognition, the most money, the biggest house, the prettiest wife. But that’s not how love works. Now, I’m not an expert, but I dare say love is above that,” he murmurs.

“Ugh.”

“What?” P.T. laughs when Philip presses his face against the tall man’s chest.

“I fucking love you.”

P.T. chuckles and wraps his arms closer around Philip. The shorter man huffs a laugh and throws his head back to look at P.T. again. Some contained tears from earlier escaped him and P.T. kisses their traces away.

“I fucking love you too,” he grins.

“I fucking love you more.”

“ _Not_ a competition,” P.T. reminds him with a wink. Philip shoots him an innocent look. They get interrupted in their banter by a rumble. Philip’s eyes widen and he slowly turns his head towards the desk with the breakfast. P.T. laughs and places a sloppy kiss on the younger man’s cheek.

“Yes, breakfast,” he quips and pulls Philip with him. They eat, both with their chairs behind the desks, their feet resting on the forgotten paper work. P.T. can’t be happier when Philip praises the food Helen and Caroline made and suggests they go home right after their show tonight. Together.


	2. the Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to The Sequel, everyone who keeps reading! Thank you so much.
> 
> For the first time ever, it's actually beta'ed by the lovely @Roxirin :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

_Two weeks later_

* * *

 

The birds are chirping so loudly it wakes Philip, and he groans, annoyed, and rolls over, deeper into the covers. Face down, wrapped in a blanket, he bumps against a sleeping form. Phineas isn’t bothered by the birds, as opposed to Philip – but that’s just because he stayed up until 3am. _‘Philip, you don’t understand, I have an idea! No, no I can’t explain, I need to-‘._ Philip went to bed at 2am and let the older man do what he had to do.

“Oh, shit!” Philip sits up straight the next moment. Remembering what day it is and with whom he’s currently sharing a bed, he slams his hand against his forehead. Quieter, he repeats himself: _“Shit, shit.”_

Carefully, he flips open the blanket cocoon and slides off the bed. With slow steps and as little noise as possible, he creeps out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him and vanishing into the bathroom to fetch some clothes. Step one mastered successfully, Philip mentally crosses it off his list. Next step: get the girls.

Philip, shushing the excited girls, enters the kitchen. They set up all they need and get to work.

“Helen, can you-“

“Where is...? Ah.”

“Oh no!”

Philip swirls around and faces Caroline Barnum, who is covered in flour and blueberries. For a moment, all three stare at the mess on the kitchen floor and on Caroline’s clothes. The emptied bag slips through Helen’s fingers and a final cloud of white arises between them.

Helen is the first to start giggling, soon followed by her older sister.

“Wow, okay, new task,” Philip laughs and helps Caroline to get the flour out of her hair and from her dress. “We need to clean this up.” The tiles are a mess and so are the girls shoes, besmeared with squished blueberries. Oh well.

“I’m on it!” Helen calls, but slaps her hands over her mouth when Philip shoots her a warning glance. They need to keep the volume down. More efficiently than Philip would have assumed, they get rid of the powdery white flour, dispose of the ruined blueberries, and continue with their work. It takes them twenty minutes and an immense amount of caution. After possibly the most stressful time ever, Philip congratulates the sisters and they make their way back upstairs, sneaking and suppressing more giggles. Philip follows them and watches his steps as he carries a tray.

After a little nod from Philip, Helen and Caroline open the huge door together and yell:

“Happy Birthday, daddy!”

Philip nearly drops the fully loaded tray when the girls stop abruptly. He sways for a second, the tray dangling precariously above Helen’s blonde hair. He leans back and stands on both feet safely, puffing out a relieved breath. Only then does he himself to look up.

Phineas sits in the middle of the bed, both blankets pooled around him and his hair sticking out in all directions, forming an ocean of dark locks. Philip’s subconscious files the image for ‘look at when sad’ moments, and his conscious mind is preoccupied with the blinding smile the older man is sporting. If you ask Philip, it’s clearly brighter than the sun.

“Aww!  Thank you! Come here, my sweeties.” Phineas laughs and slides back to make room for the girls, who are already crawling onto the mattress. Philip watches the scene play out with a soft smile. Helen leaps at her father, pulling Caroline along and creating something Philip can only describe as a cuddle cluster. It’s adorable.

“You too, Lip.” A honeyed voice reaches out for him and Philip rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t bother to hide the pleased smile playing on his lips. Although the girls shuffle over and Phineas holds up a hand to take the tray from Philip, it is not an easy task to lower himself down into the crowded space.

“You said whatever I did would be great, so… appreciate it.” Philip grins and presents what the girls and he had produced over the past half hour. Balanced on the tray is one big plate with a stack of pancakes. Carefully sorted into little bowls are different fruits, mostly from their garden and some that took Philip a while to get his hands on. Phineas takes his time to acknowledge and praise all the detail and love they put into the unusual breakfast. Caroline beams at Philip, who nods secretively. They picked the right food for a perfect start to a birthday.

“Oh, we forgot something!”

“What may that be, sweetheart? I think I got everything I could need.” Phineas wants to know. He throws a little piece of apple – neatly cut into a cube – into his mouth. Helen watches him with a grin, before she explains her exclamation.

“You have nothing to drink! We’ll be back,” she says and jumps off the bed, “come on, Carrie.”

The girls run out of the room, leaving the door open and laughing and talking to each other. Philip bets it’ll take them a while to remember what they wanted to do initially. He can’t be too sad about it when he feels a warm hand fall on his shoulder, sending chills down his spine.

“I appreciate it. Thank you very much,” Phineas murmurs. He rests his wandering hand on Philip’s cheek.

“You’re welcome.” Philip feels his heart flutter, though he’s also never felt so calm. So relaxed. So at home. He picks up one of the few blueberries that survived the kitchen accident, but with his hand halfway to his mouth, he changes his mind. Instead of eating the little piece of fruit, he offers it to Phineas.

Without a second thought, the older man leans closer to Philip and snatches the berry from his fingers. Philip can still feel the soft lips even after they’ve brushed over his skin. He leans into the tender touch on his face and closes his eyes.

“I’ve got something else for you too,” he whispers, not opening his eyes or moving the slightest bit.

“You don’t need to make impressive gifts, darling.”

“I know. It’s not- well. It’s not something you buy. Usually.”

“Hmhm...” Phineas hums and strokes his thumb over Philip’s cheek. Then he removes his hand, and Philip nearly topples over, chasing the warm touch. He gets caught in an embrace, before Phineas pushes him upright again, resulting in a non-existent space between them.

Philip turns the smallest bit red and lets his legs rest on top of Phineas’s.

“Comfortable?”

“Very.”

“Now, what’s the other gift?” Phineas urges and threads his fingers through strands of Philip’s hazelnut hair. It makes him sigh in contentment.

“Not now. I think I hear the girls on the stairs.” Philip mutters and looks at the door that’s gaping open. Fast steps echo through the house, but it’s impossible to tell whether they’re actually coming upstairs or not. “First, get up and we’ll have some quality...family time.” The words taste strange, foreign. It hits Philip again, how he never had ‘real’ family time with his family. Blood relatives, rather than an emotional connected family.

“I’d love that.” Phineas agrees, not addressing Philip’s insecurity. The younger man replies with a grateful smile and instead of pulling back and getting up, nuzzles Phineas’ neck.

“Don’t tempt me…” Phineas grins, and feels rather than hears Philip chuckle.

“Alright. Breakfast, then we can start a truly adventurous day.” Philip agrees and draws back. His eyes meet excited brown ones and not surprisingly a sweet kiss follows shortly afterward. He can’t complain, Phineas tastes like fruit and –Phineas. He smiles and deepens the kiss, and is pulled in by Phineas’ hand, still in his hair and his legs still thrown over the others.

“Ah, Helen!”

Philip glances over his shoulder, and Phineas chuckles. Caroline and Helen stand in the doorway, Caroline with a hand over her younger sister’s eyes in childish horror.

“Have you finished your breakfast?” Caroline asks, dropping her hand. Helen grins toothily at both men and walks over to place a pot filled with tea in Phineas’s hand. Caroline adds two cups and once she’s got two free hands, puts them on her hips impatiently.

“You are so slow! Hurry daddy, we have a lot planned! Right, Philip?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you prepare – you know what,” Philip winks at the girls, “and I’ll get your dad out of here so we can finally start.”

The sisters share a long look, some conversation passing without any words, then Caroline nods and Helen hastily copies her.

“Fair enough. But no more kisses, you are so slow when you do that. See you downstairs!”

They skip through the door once again and leave a slack-jawed Philip. He wants to answer belatedly and closes his mouth when the door shuts with a thud. This time it’s easier to make out the noise of feet running down the flight of stairs.

“Did she just-“

“Yes, come here. Go fast.” Phineas interrupts him and his amused tone makes Philip comply immediately. He shifts and as soon as he’s face-to-face with Phineas, he is rewarded with a grin and a kiss. And another, really, just a peck.

“You should listen to- your- daughters- stop!” Philip laughs as he’s stopped after every other word by chaste kisses, stolen from his moving lips. He unceremoniously lays one hand over Phineas’ mouth.

“Eat at least some of the pancakes and then we need to hurry. These girls are way too clever.”

“Waygedidvomeh,” comes the muffled response. A smirk forms on Philip’s face and he raises his eyebrows.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asks without removing his hand.

“Whey. Ged. Id. Fvom. We.”

“Nah, don’t understand you. Sorry.” Philip laughs at the exasperated eye roll it earns him. After a moment of consideration, he pulls his hand back and fetches another piece of fruit.

“They get their cleverness from me. Obviously. Now stop stealing my food, I’m the birthday child.”

“You are, but dawdling birthday children don’t get surprises,” Philip quips and gets up. It’s not as easy with the position he currently possesses, so he places the unused tea cups on the nightstand and snatches one of the pancakes from the tray on Phineas’ lap. Equipped with food, he not-so-graciously climbs out of bed. Phineas chuckles and lets him slip away, but not without dragging his fingertips over all of the man he can reach.

“Also, you’re not a child, old man.” Philip says when Phineas’s fingers can no longer reach him.

“Hey!” he protests, but Philip is already out of the door to follow Phineas’ daughters – they feel almost like _his_ daughters by now – to set up everything for their trip. Helen had suggested a carriage ride out of town, to some nearby forest. And if he was being honest, Philip couldn’t say no to either of the girls.

Or to their father, for that matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a birthday...I hope you liked it :)


End file.
